Dancing in the Blood
by fictionrosepoem
Summary: Quinn a young dancer and an orphan is claimed by his uncle after nine years. Now he lives in the famous murder house, naive to the ghost that haunt the place. But when his handsome neighbor comes over will the younger dancer be able to keep up with the man's dangerous tango or will Quinn stumble?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one -American horror story fanfic chapter one- Usually when you hear of a distant family trying to get a hold of you, you're somewhat happy and somewhat curious and hesitant. Happy, because well, you have more family and they want to get to know you. Curious and hesitant because you probably ask yourself how did they find you, and are they really a part of your family? Quintus Marcellin asked himself the same question as the black tinted window limo pulled up in front of the orphanage.

Two purple suit cases stood next to him on top of the concrete steps as the vehicle stopped. To be honest with himself, he was scared out of his mind, his father had left him abandon at the innocent age of eight, and now exactly nine years later, his father's brother, his uncle was coming to claim him. A man with brown slicked back hair exited the driver side door and walked up to Quintus. "Are you Quintus Rose Marcellin?" He asked, his voice deep a baritone. He simply nodded his head. The man returned the nod with one of his own and walked passed him into the front lobby of the orphanage. The headmaster of the house was standing there waiting for the arrival and quickly, without hesitation handed over the files and any other paper work on Quintus. Quintus, or Quinn as the other kids called him, stood still on the porch, well somewhat.

Being a dance choreographer, his body was always moving some way. Like right now, his fingers drummed against his jean cladded legs as he waited for the man to come back out. Once he did, manilla folder in hand, he ordered Quinn to follow him. Scrabbling around with his suit cases for a moment, he finally was able to grab the two and follow the man to the awaiting limo. The serious looking man opened the door for him and Quinn thanked him as he got in. Another man appeared, dressed in the same suit as the brown hair man, only his was blonde, his hair was also slicked back. The blonde took both of Quinn's suitcases and put them in back, while the man from before shut the door. He watched from behind the tinted window as both men walked to the front of the limo, got in and started the engine and pulled away from the place called home for the last nine years.

It wasn't until they reached the end of the street did he realize that he wasn't the only person in the back part of the limo. A harsh cough directed his attention away from the view outside the window, to inside the limo a few feet away from him. An old man sat, reclined back in the black seat, a cane in one hand and a glass of some sort of alcohol in the other. "Quintus, my boy, you've really have grown up." The man said. Quinn gave the man a wry smile in response. "Ya' look just your gypsy of a mother, with that ridiculous hair and ya damn eyes. God I really did wish you took more so after your father." His uncle grumbled. From what Quintus could remember when he was little, and still living in Europe, before his father had taken him away from his mother, the two families didn't like each other. His mother was full blooded Greek, and danced wherever she could in the country side of Greece for a living.

She had very light beautiful olive skin and enchanting green eyes with dark oak shoulder length hair, that were usually twirled into thick curls. Sometimes she'd even have beads weaved into braids in her hair. Dancing one day in the country side was when she met his father. The way it was told to him as a child, his father seemed like some descendent of royalty from Germany. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. Sometimes Quinn wondered if his father's side of family was somewhat involved with hitler long ago, but kept that to himself. "I'm sorry, but my genetic make up isn't something-" "Well at least you got your father's brains. From looking at your high school test scores; it's promising." His uncle cut in. Quinn was silent for a moment, simply staring at his only living, breathing family member. His own pale green eyes looked down at the red carpeted floor of the limo and sighed inwardly. "For now, you are going to live in one of the many houses our family owns in California." His uncle said, as the limo took a turn. Originally, when his father took him America they stayed in Boston. And Quinn absolutely loved in there. But since his father abandon him, the orphanage he was left at had sent him, and a few other children to there house in California since there were too many children for the single house to care for. And Quinn hated the heat of the summertime here.

Quinn simply nodded to his uncle. For roughly a minute silence placed itself between the two men. It was suddenly broken when his uncle started a rough, coughing laugh. "No need to be so quite, we're going to get to know each other very vell." His German accent slipping through. "R-Right." Quinn said softly. "So, Quintus, any hobbies you picked up? How about sport at school? Clubs? You must be doing something to keep in shape, I can see those muscles from under that flimsy thing you call a shirt." His uncle said. Quinn gave a tiny forced laugh. No way was he going to tell his, assuming gypsy hating uncle, that he got the body by consent dancing. "I do cross country." He blurted out which really wasn't a lie, he did have to run to keep his cardio up.

His uncle nodded to himself, seeming like he was approving of the sport. "Good, your school have a wrestling team?" He asked, leaning forward. Whatever little sunlight that came through the tinted windows shone down on the cane, highlighting the metal figure carved at the top of the cane. From what it looked like under the gleam of it, an eagle with both wings spread out. "Uh, no...no wrestling team." Quinn said as his hand came up to rake back his bleach blond hair, with brown oak undertone highlights. "How about JROTC? Ever heard of them?" His uncle pressured. "Um, I think so, I'm not too sure." He commented. His uncle gave a hardy chuckle, toying with the cane in his hand a bit. Quinn's eyes followed the movement of the eagle distractedly.

Sudden the end of the cane was jabbed at the seat between his legs, connecting with the black fabric of the limo's seat. Quinn nearly jumped out of his seat at the action. "You aren't giving me a bunch of bullshit right kid?" He said suddenly, the somewhat relaxed air around him, turning stale in a nanosecond. "No sir!" Quinn said immediately, eyes going wide and tried his best not to shake in his seat. Slowly his uncle retracted his cane and leaned back in his seat. "Good, now-" "Lord Rupert, we've arrived." The brown hair man said from the driver side called into the back. His uncle, Rupert grumbled to himself in what Quinn assumed was German. "Come on, get out." His uncle said and Quinn scrambled quickly and exited the limo quickly. His uncle getting out slowly behind him. The two men in suit stood directly beside Quinn as his uncle got out and closed the door himself. "Now, Quintus there are a few simple rules I will assume you will follow by the utmost respect, correct?" He asked him, looking down at him. "Yes sir." Quinn said softly. "Good, Gunther get the lad's bags." He said and grabbed Quinn's shoulder. "Let's walk." He said and guided him to the front of the large house.

Quinn's eyes widen at the site. "Oh my god, I-I get to live here?" He said and looked up at his uncle who smiled. "Yes, Gunther," he pointed to the blonde man getting his things, "Will stop by every afternoon at four to check up on you, making sure you are following the rules and the house hasn't burnt down." He said and stopped at the front door, Quinn stopping next to him. "Now here are the keys, and there is a spare in the kitchen, I'll be leaving now so you can get settled in. You'll be starting at your new high school in a week's time." He said and revealed a set of keys. "Now, for the rules." His uncle Rupert said, his tone growing more serious. "No parties in the house, you are to attend government classes at the school so that you will go into the family business. You will not smoke, drink or have any kind of relationship until after you are married, until I deem the woman worthy enough, or if I feel lenient you may date her. I will not tolerate animals in the house, unless I say other wise. Is that all understood?" His uncle said glaring his blue eyes down at him. "Yes sir." Quinn said quickly, though he really didn't understand everything he just said and was in a bit of a state of shock. "Good." His uncle mused as Gunther came up behind the and placed his bags on the ground.

"I will be seeing you soon again Quintus, I have a meeting to attend to in an hour and will call the house later tonight." He said as he turned around. Quinn nodded and turned around to unlock the house when there was sudden heavy weight in his shoulder. The weight whipped him around and he looked up into his uncle's dead like eyes. "Another rule of this house. If I even suspect you of dancing for any kind of payment the consequences will be server." His uncle warned, slowly dragging the tip of the wing of the cane along Quinn's throat until he had to tilt his chin up. "I'd hate to see something awful happen to that pretty face of yours, or for anything bad to happen to my only nephew, and heir to my company." He said smirking. To scared to voice a response Quinn screwed his eyes shut and tried not to move. "Glad you see things my way. I'll call you later." His uncle said, a sudden care free like tone weaving in with his words.

Quinn waited for the three men to get into the limo and drive off before he let out a huge sigh he had been holding in. He rubbed his throat softly, his light pale and olive mixed skin shinning smooth in the Cali afternoon sun. Quintus looked down at the key in his hand for a moment and then back to where the limo was parked. Squeezing the key in his hand he slowly sat down on the front porch. Swallowing thickly he started to regret having such high hopes for bonding with his uncle. As tears pricked the sides of his eyes a gust of wind whirled around him for a moment, cooling him off a bit from the heat of the sun. A sudden click was heard behind him and he turned around with his now tear stained face to see that the door had opened up.

"My dear are you all right?" A soft feminine voice asked. Rubbing his eyes he looked up to see an older woman in a maids outfit holding open the door. "I'm fine, sorry I...who are you?" He asked standing up and brushing off some of the dust on his loose fitting jeans. "I'm the house keeper here, my name is Moira." She said with a kind smile. Quinn returned it with one of his own. "Why don't you come in?" She said and stepped aside to let him enter the house. He quickly grabbed his things and walked inside the house. The inside was what he'd expect it to be, completely and utterly beautiful.

There was also a nice cool breeze circling around the first floor of the house that put a bit of a smile of Quinn's face. "Leave your bags there for now dear, I'm sure you must be starving." Moira said as she walked into the kitchen. Quinn did as she said and then followed her into the kitchen. "What would you like to eat?" She asked him. "Oh...umm..." Quinn wasn't used to being waited on. "Anything easy for you to make, I'm not that hungry." He said. Moira turned around and looked over at him, now sitting at the kitchen island. "Well that's certainly not specific enough to make..." Her voice trailed off. Quinn smacked himself in the back of his mind. "Sorry! I never introduced myself I'm Quintus Marcellin by uncle bought house and is letting me stay here." He said quickly. Moira smiled softly, "Alright Mr. Marcellin what do you want to eat." "Um anything sweet I guess." He said shyly. "Alright I think I have something up my sleeve you might like." She commented. "Yum!" Quinn smiled.

After a few minutes of watched Moira creating whatever it was, he spoke up. "My uncle didn't say anything about a house keeper here, he said Gunther was going to be dropping by every afternoon." Quinn said. Moira simply looked over her shoulder with a smile. "Your uncle Rupert is as old as I am, he's very forgetful sometimes since he's so busy with his own work he forgets the littler people he hires to take care of his things." She said. Quinn just nodded and placed around with the little spice rack on the counter. Moira smiled at his action but looked over towards the living room as she sensed one of the many dead people haunting the house.

Patrick stood, or more so leaned against the door frame, eyeing Quintus up and down. Moira gave him a deadly glare, daring him to do something. Patrick scoffed and then disappeared out of sight down the hall. "Something wrong Moira?" Quinn asked. "Oh, no nothing Mr. Marcellin, here you go." She said and placed a tray of strawberry tarts with whipped cream in front of him. Moira saw the surprised look at the treats and could the young boy wasn't used to being pampered even a little bit. "Gosh, Moira...these...they look amazing." He said picking one of the sweets up and taking a bite of it. "Glad to know you like it." "He seems easy to please." Patrick said, now standing right behind Quinn, though the blonde headed sweet lover had no clue. Patrick smirked at Moira before the treat in Quinn's hand suddenly slipped out of his grasp and fell on his shirt and pants. "Shoot." Quinn said and backed up just as Patrick disappeared again. The whipped cream and strawberry tart staining the clothes. "Oh dear it's alright, here." She said and handed him a damp towel. As Quinn cleaned off the mess he looked back up at Moira. "Mr. Marcellin, did your uncle ever tell you anything about this house?" Quinn shook his head no.

Sighing Moira sat down on the other side of the kitchen island. "This house is very, very old. Built in the '20's and since then...I'm going to be very honest with you, many people have died in this house." She told him bluntly and could see the suddenly uneasy stance Quinn had and how it looked like he was try to suppress his shivering. "Really, that's um..." He didn't how to respond to that in all honesty. "Mr. Marcellin as long as you have your head, you should not be afraid of this old place." Moira told him. "Right." He said, tossing the towel in the trash bin. "Besides, I'm sure your uncle will want you living somewhere else once you finish high school. Possibly close to company's headquarters or something like that." Moira said, as she got out a glass cover to put over the strawberry tarts. "Yeah, the company..." Quinn sighed and ran a hand through his slightly spiked yet somewhat shaggy hair. "Do you not want to take over the company?" Moira asked him with a concern look. Quinn looked up at her shyly and bit the bottom of his lip. "I don't even know what the company is and what they do. I haven't taken any kind of government classes all throughout high school, and starting them half way through my senior year? I mean what kind of job will that get me?" Quinn said and sat on the kitchen counter.

"Then Mr. Marcellin, what do you want to do?" Moira asked kindly. Quinn didn't meet her eyes. "Okay have to, like promise that you won't tell my uncle what I'm about to tell you." He told her, and held out his pinkie finger. Moira laughed softly at the childish action, but none the less intertwine her other pinkie finger with his. "Promise." She told him. "I want to be a dancer like my mother was, but my father's family absolutely hate gypsies. I don't even know how the two met or why he was in Greece in the first place." "Where you born there?" She asked. "Yeah, my mom Greek and my dad German through and through. I wanted to dance like my mother, the first time I saw he dancing was in the living room with my dad, and since then I've always wanted to dance. I sometimes even snuck out of the house and followed her to where she worked." "I think you'd make a lovely dancer Mr. Marcellin." Moira said and rested a wrinkled hand on Quinn's leg. "You'd be the only one to think that, besides my mother, but she's...not with us anymore. My father didn't like the idea of his son dancing for money." He admitted.

"Well, you're in America now and can do whatever you heart wants to do." Moira said and patted his leg. "Now, why don't you get settled in and put your things away, I still have some cleaning to do." She said and Quinn got off the counter. "Thanks Moira." He said and went back to the front of the house. Grabbing both of his bags Quinn made his way up the stairs. He left the two suitcases atop of the stairs and looked around. Down the hallway Patrick leaned against the hallway and watched as the new tenant looked around for a room to call his own. "Looking at the new eye candy?" Tate said, appearing next to him. "What's it to you?" Patrick said looking over at the other blonde headed boy. "Well just remember the last time you tried banging the new owner." Tate said and shrugged his shoulders. "This one doesn't have any baggage." Patrick said, not in the mood to talk to his killer.

"Scram before I rip you open and hang you like a deer in front of Violet." Patrick warned him. Tate made a few comments on how he'd do the same if he ever touched or looked at Violet before angrily walking off. Going back to watching Quinn, he saw him checking Tate's old room. Well, he certainly didn't want him bunking in there. Patrick went over thermostat and cranked it up to over eighty degrees Fahrenheit. Slowly the upstairs became an oven as Patrick saw Quinn exit Tate's room. "God, nowhere is safe from this California heat." Quinn mumbled and started to tug at the collar of his t-shirt. Patrick grew a bit impatience and wanted some fun, since he wasn't getting any action from absolutely anyone in the house. Quinn went to open another door when suddenly a door at the end of the hallway opened up.

He looked over and slowly made his way over, once at the door he hesitantly poked his head into the room. "Oh, wow!" Quinn said as he stepped into the master bedroom. The place looked amazing with the white sheets and the huge bed. Quinn immediately dived on to the bed and sighed happily. He never seen such a big bed and rolled over so that he was laying down on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He stayed there for a moment before a sudden heat wave washed over him. Quinn felt like he'd sweat off a pound if he stayed like he was now. He exited the room and got his suitcases and came back into the room, sweat now covering him in a thin sheen. Patrick watched his own personal show as he sat in the chair next to the desk. Quinn had thrown a suitcase on the bed and popped it open.

Slowly he removed the shirt he was wearing and then turned around, no doubt because he felt like someone was watching him, and in this case he was right. Patrick could see Quinn's toned muscle and abs underneath his rich color skin, it almost had him watering at the mouth. For someone who danced, and also being a male, Patrick noticed how small his waist was. He thought how good he would look laying on the bed sweat and moaning. Tossing his shirt to the side Quinn walked over and shut the door. Turning back around he slowly started to undo his pants and take them off.

By this time, Patrick's pants started to feel a little snug. He almost swore the boy was teasing him. As Quinn took off his pants to reveal a pair of forest green briefs, Patrick thanked whoever was up there because this was the most action he got since Ben and if he played his cards right he could- "I had come to see if it was true." An all to familiar voice said from in front of the closed door. Patrick looked over to see Chad standing there with his arms crossed against his chest. "Is everyone in this house trying to cock block me?" Patrick asked out loud. Chad scoffed and sat down on the master bed. "Well, I've got to give it to the kid, nice body." He said, looking up and down, eyeing Quinn's toned legs.

Quinn sighed as he folded his discarded clothes at the end of the bed and zoned out to himself for a moment. Wondering if he should practice a bit of dance in the large living room space or take a shower and get settled in. But thinking back to what his uncle said about him dancing... 'Your not dancing for money, it's just practice.' Patrick made Quinn think, he could always shower later after a bit of a workout. "You dirty sly dog." Chad said from his seat on the bed as Quinn threw on a pair of black shorts. "Can you blame me-" "Yes, yes I can." Chad butted in. "You know that's not what I meant." Patrick sighed. "Oh, I know." Chad said and held up his hands. "I'll just leave you alone to toy with the underage innocent new house guest." Chad said and disappeared. "He's not underage, he's seventeen." Patrick grumbled to himself. It took Patrick a moment before noticing that Quinn had left the room. This was something he didn't want to miss.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Moira?" Quinn asked from the hallway, looking around for her. "I'm in the kitchen Mr. Marcellin." She called back to him. He entered the kitchen, radio in hand and wearing a white, two sizes too big tank top, and tight black shorts. "I'm...just gonna workout in the living room area and umm..." His voiced trailed off and looked around. "It's okay Mr. Marcellin you won't be disturbing me if you play your music." She told him with a kind smile. "Awesome, I won't be playing it for long!" He said and disappeared quickly into the living room. Quinn moved a few things around in the room to make room for himself and then turned around and grabbed his radio, placing it on the love seat to the side. Crouching down he scrolled through his playlist for a practice song to dance to.

The young teen clicked on one of his favorites, from the famous Pussy Cat Dolls, Don't Cha. Okay, the young boy admits his taste in music is a bit, odd for someone like himself, but the beat was good as well as the rhythm of the song to help with his timing and moves. Quinn stretched out his arms and legs for a few moments as well as his back and neck, before clicking the play button and the song started to blared through the speakers. Patrick had decided to settle himself on the long comfortable couch to watch Quinn dance. When the song started and Quinn started to dance, he knew he had found his new hobby. The way Quinn's body moved, rolled, suddenly popping and twisting to the beat could truly only be described as sensual.

It was probably the sexiest thing Patrick had ever seen before, besides this one time in Montana. Quinn's body dropped to the ground and gracefully came back up, twisting around and jumping. Patrick didn't even want to get into how his hands slid over his own body to the song. Sliding and grabbing his articles of clothing, and sometimes he noticed he'd bite his lower lip or sing along silently with the song. Sometimes he lift up that flimsy tank top of his, if you could even call it that with how much skin it showed off and Patrick could make the starting outlines of his abs and licked his own lips. "I could really get used to this." Patrick commented, as he decided to turn up the heat again in the house. It didn't take much time for the boy to work up a sweat and start to pull off the article of clothing from his body. The way those long nimble fingers brushed back his bangs had Patrick howling on the inside, thinking of all the ways he could put those hands to work, and his body as well.

The song continued to play and Quinn continued to dance. Now Patrick could really see the curves and toned muscles and the way his torso moved perfectly. This continued for close to two hours before Quinn stopped, covered in sweat and breathing a bit heavily. He casually walked over to the radio and turned off the current playing song. The whole time he was dancing he felt eyes on him and it gave him a bit of an uneasy feeling, but Moira was the only other person in the house, and she was cleaning in the kitchen. He decided to just write it off as him just trying to get use to the old place. Scratching the back of his neck, he realized just how much he had sweated. Grabbing his shirt he then walked back upstairs and into the master bedroom to go take a shower. Patrick went to go follow but was stopped by Moira grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. "And where do you think you're going?" She asked him. "Get your hands off of me you old hag." Patrick growled. Moira stared up at him. "I won't let you take that child's innocence." Moira warned him. "What are you going to do? Eat my junk?" Patrick scoffed walking away and shoved a hand in his front pocket. "Why don't you go see where Ben is a kill some time?" He commented before fading away.

Moira stood there staring up at the grand staircase leading up to the second level, hearing the sound of one of the shower heads being turned on. Sighing, she ran he hands down her skirt and brushed it with her fingers gently, before picking her head up and walking back into the kitchen.

Up stairs in the master bedroom, Quinn threw his shorts into the tiny white plastic laundry basket and sighed. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply for a moment, he didn't want to be here. His dreams involved moving to climate that actually had different seasons, or maybe back to his home country and speed his days dancing into the night as everyone looked at him and cheered him on. Not in this house, that way too big for him, with his slightly mental uncle. Getting rid of his shirt he walked into the joint bathroom in nothing but his boxers and started to shower. Letting it run for a moment he leaned against the cold marble sink counter and let his thoughts warned to how he was going to get out his uncle's grip.

Don't get him wrong, he wanted an education and he didn't want to run away, but if it came down to that...Quinn suddenly jumped up and away from the counter when he felt something brush hotly against his shoulder. But nothing was there. "It's just my mind, this house is big and way to empty for just two people." Quinn reasoned with himself as he hooked his thumbs underneath the waist band and started to pull them down, the sensation of someone watching came back and looked over at the closed bathroom door. The briefs fell to the ground with a barely audible thud and drew back the curtains and got in. Taking a nice cool shower was what he needed after that long workout. He ran his fingers through his hair and relaxed, the days events running down the drain. Scrubbing his back and torso thoroughly to get the stink and sweat off of him, Quinn's right hand slowly trailed down his stomach and hesitated and hovered between his legs before shaking his head and getting some shampoo in his hands.

Patrick was seriously loosing his patience and couldn't help himself but reach out to touch that tempting skin. He hadn't mean to scare Quinn, but what was he to do? And watching him in the shower was not helping him. His eyes could easily see through the cheap transparent curtain, and see Quinn supple ass...and a little more. He let his thoughts run away for a few moment before the strain in his pants came back. Patrick growled to himself, and stormed off to take care of his problem not being able to restrain himself anymore. After Quinn finished his shower he heard his name being called downstairs. "Just a minute!" He called out loudly.

Quickly, Quinn slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a short sleeved t-shirt and went down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step he saw Gunther standing by the front door, hands crossed against his chest. "H..Hi Gunther." Quinn spoke softly to the older man. He simply nodded his head and told him follow him. They both walked into the living room, which had yet to put back. Gunther turned around and raised a suspicion blonde eyebrow. "Wasn't enough room to workout." He half lied, and shoved his hands in his pocket as he sat on the love seat. Gunther decided to keep standing in an intimidating stance. "Um, actually I have a question for you." Quinn said. "What exactly does my uncle do? Like his business?" He asked shyly. "Your uncle is an important man, back home in the father land." He stated, a slight German accent Quinn could hear. "Lord Rupert is in charge of many interest and stocks in Germany, since moving here he has also picked up a few higher end restaurants and is the head CEO of six different construction companies." Quinn admitted that was pretty impressive, "You kept calling him Lord Rupert?" "Because that is what he is. Your father is a descendent of royalty, which make you one as well." Gunther explained.

"So what? I'm some kind of prince?" Quinn asked raising his eyebrows. He noticed Gunther show a small smirk. "You could argue with that, but it's not as simple." He told him. The two of them started to talk about school when suddenly the door bell started to ring. Gunther looked at Quinn, who put his hands up in self defense. Gunther nonetheless went over and opened the door. "Hello? Who are you?" He heard him speak. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice I got a new neighbor, so I decided to drop by and introduce myself." He heard another male voice say. Quinn stood up and sort of poked his head from behind the door frame to see his neighbor.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three He saw Gunther moves his hand telling him to stay hidden, though this only caused the man to lean forward, making eye contact with Quinn, who was somewhat hiding behind the door frame. "Your kid?" The man asked. Quinn noticed that Gunther looked like he was trying to hold back a small smile. "No, my boss's nephew. I'm sorry I didn't get your name." Gunther said, his blue eyes glaring behind his sunglasses. "How rude of me, I'm Patrick I live across the street." He said with a small smile and held out his hand for Gunther to shake his hand, Quinn noticed a neatly wrapped box with a bow on it in his other hand. "Quinn." Gunther barked out and he stood up straight next to the door frame as Gunther took Patrick's hand. He told the boy to come over and met the man. Quinn walked over, finally getting a good look at the man and those soft sky blue eyes. "Hey there kiddo." Patrick said and gesture to the small wrapped box. "Hope you like strawberries." He told him with a small smile.

The way Patrick could up close at those green eyes lighting up at the simple berry. He handed the box over to him, Quinn thanking him happily. "I'll put them in the fridge for later." He said and quickly made his leave towards the kitchen. Once in the room, he snuck a glance over his shoulder and saw Gunther talking to him, no doubt testing and getting information out of him to see if he was safe to be let around Quinn. Though, Quinn didn't expect to see Patrick looking right at him and gave a subtle wink in his direction. This made Quinn quickly turn around and scurry out of view of Patrick. There was no doubt that Patrick was very attractive in Quinn's eye.

He placed the berries in the fridge, next to a few other foods. His mind wander as he shut the door and turned around, only to collide into a firm chest. Patrick stood there, and placed his hands on his shoulder, steadying the younger male and noticed how his lashes fluttered up at him and those pink lips mumbled an embarrassed 'sorry'. "Don't worry about it kiddo." He said, patting Quinn on his head, much like one would do to a puppy. "Oh, ah Gunther wanted me to tell you he was leaving," Patrick said and pointed to the close door, "I guess your uncle needed him back at his place or something." He told him. "Oh, well your welcome to stay here for a while, if you want." Quinn told him, and Patrick noticed the color in his cheek darken. "Sure, I'd love to. It'd give us time to get to know each other better." Patrick said and smiled, showing his pearl white teeth. Quinn raked his hand through his damp hair and smiled back. "Want me to give you a tour of the place? I've only been here a few hours but I think I know where almost everything is." He told him.

Patrick had to try very hard to keep from laughing, but agreed. He followed behind Quinn as he lead him through the first floor, and soon making his way up to second floor. "And that's another bedroom, oh and there's the bathroom. My bedroom's down the hall." Quinn told him. As he made his way over to his bedroom, he noticed one of the many doors on the floor was opened just a crack. "Um, I haven't been in his room yet." Quinn said and opened the door. Patrick had a worried expression on his face as Quinn opened the door to the nursery. "Oh my god." Quinn said as he entered the room. Patrick was waiting for some kind of disgust but was a bit surprised as Quinn walked over to the crib with a smile on his face. "Looks like the owners before had a baby." He said and picked up a purple stuffed elephant. The small toy made a tiny squeak when he press his tummy. Patrick was leaning against the door with a smirk on his face and then pushed himself off of the frame, making his way over to Quinn. "Yeah, I knew them, I believe they left to go live somewhere Midwest." Patrick said, and wrapped an arm around Quinn's shoulder. "Mind showing me the master bedroom?" He asked, his eyes have lidded. Quinn blinked up at Patrick and nodded his head.

He slipped out of Patrick's hold and lead him towards his new claimed room. When they both entered he saw that Quinn's clothing had been tossed around the room and the young boy stared in horror at seeing his underwear displayed across the room. "Dear lord, I-I'm so sorry, I don't remember leaving the room like this." He said his face turning a cute pink as he quickly tried to gather up he clothing and put them away. "Don't worry, I was the same when I was your age. My mother couldn't even tell what color my bedroom floor was." Patrick reassured him, though he wasn't the one that ransack his suitcases. But what Patrick did notice was that Hayden suddenly appeared next to the worrying, and embarrassed Quinn.

Before Patrick could make a move she disappeared with a sly smirk on her face and suddenly something was dropped into his hand. Patrick looked down to see a white lacy thong in his hands. He cleared his throat, getting Quinn's attention and showed him the skimp article of clothing as he spun it around a finger. The look on Quinn's face was priceless. "Tha-That is not mine!" He stuttered out, nearly dropping all the clothing he had gathered up in his hands. "I liked to keep prizes-" "I don't swing that way!" Quinn said bluntly. Patrick saw Quinn's brain registering what he just said and shock spread across his face. "Wait, what I meant-" "I know what you meant." Patrick said softly. He walked over to the smaller male, thong in his hand as he gently turned his chin upward to face him. "I don't swing that way either." He told him, his voice a rough and it sent shivers down Quinn's spine.

What Quinn was not expecting was for Patrick to lean forward and place his lips gently on the side of his mouth. Patrick then placed the thong in Quinn's hand as well as a slip of paper. "Call me whenever you what, pup." Patrick said gave a wink and Quinn blushed at the cute nickname as he turned to leave. Closing the door to the bedroom, Quinn was left with the white thong still in his hand and his heart rate through the roof. He dropped the skimpy piece of clothing and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door.


	4. Chapter 4

The time Quinn spent in the house flew by quickly. He'd been living there for a little over three months and he was used to his new routine. The dancer would get up at six o' clock sharp and take a shower, eat breakfast, get dress and head to the bus stop. His school was okay, the classes were to difficult though he absolutely hated the Gov. ll class he was forced to take. Then he'd either take the bus home, or decided to walk if the weather was a bit cooler. Quinn, once he got to house, Patrick was usually be outside walking his way from the store on the sidewalk and Moira was already in the house cleaning. The young teen would chat with Patrick outside the house before going inside to do whatever homework he had. Then Gunther came to do his check of the place and leave without making too much of a conversation.

After the blonde left, Patrick came by almost every day. The two would sit in the kitchen, or hang outside in the shade. He admit the kiss they somewhat shared a few weeks ago still crossed his mind, but Patrick hadn't done anything like that again or even brought it up. He had noticed that Moira wasn't to fond of him, which had him a bit concern that the two would end fighting and leave him in an awkward position. But today was Moira's day off and Gunther had already come over and checked up on him, he was also now given an allowance. Apparently his uncle trusted him enough to give him money for new clothes and other supplies. Gunther had been gone for over a hour, and today being Friday had hoped Patrick would come over a bit earlier than normal. He didn't like being in the house all alone. At least that was what he thought.

It was six o'clock by the time he heard the door bell ring. Quinn jumped up from the couch where he was watching some sappy cartoon show. He raced over to the door, stumbling a bit because he only had socks on his feet. Opening the oak door he saw Patrick standing there with his usual smile on his face. "Hey pup." Patrick said as he entered the house. Quinn could help but smile bright at his adopted nickname. "So what do feel like doing tonight?" Quinn asked and Patrick had to restrain himself from saying 'You.' Instead he reached into a small bag he had brought with him. He pulled a few movies, horror ones. "In for a scary movie marathon?" He asked and smirked to himself as Quinn nodded his slowly. The kid really was like a puppy, scared of scary movies, is a sucker for something sweet and loves Patrick's presence. The sun was just about to set as Quinn pulled back the curtains in the living room.

Patrick placed one of the movies in the DVD player and watched as Quinn moved the couch around so they could sit in the same place. 'Prefect.' Patrick thought to himself. "Do you want a blanket? And m-maybe some food?" He asked him. Patrick nodded his head and turned back to the tv, pausing the previews, knowing the other liked to watch them. Quinn made his way to the kitchen and got out a bag of popcorn, placing it in the microwave he then got out his favorite strawberry treats that Patrick made just for him. The young teen then pour two glasses of soda and walked back into the room and placed the items down on the living room table. "The popcorn will be done in a minute." He told him. Patrick nodded his head and stood up and went over to the couch to sit on it. Patrick noticed how Quinn stood there staring at him, and looked up at him, which startled him a bit. "Ah, I'm gonna go change into some sweats." He said quickly and left to go change.

Once he was out of sight Patrick gave a soft laugh to himself. Over the pass few months, he noticed Quinn's staring at him. Usually it was at his chest or face, but a few times he noticed how his eyes would glance lower, just below the belt. Up in the master bedroom Quinn was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He messed with his hair a little bit and chewed absentmindedly at his lower lip. Quinn really liked Patrick and wanted to be closer to Patrick but he had no experience with flirting with men. All he did was stare and do practically anything he said. Sighing to himself he walked back into the bedroom and pulled out a pair of blue and white plaid briefs and a dark navy blue tank top. Before he left the room he grabbed an oversized spare blanket and carried it down the stairs. He noticed Patrick was still in his spot and had his eyes shut, his eyes fluttered over to the steaming blow of freshly popped popcorn.

When he looked back up at Patrick he was smiling at him. "Like what you see puppy?" He asked teasing him. Quinn stuck his tongue out and sat down on the couch. Patrick laughed at the childish manner and took the blanket from Quinn. "Ready? Where's the remote?" Quinn asked looking around for it. "Over by the DVD player." Patrick said and watched closely as Quinn went to go get it. The way the briefs outline his ass and the way he bent at the waist to pick up the remote. Patrick was aware of the other's attempt to flirt, and he admit it was cute. When he got up, the tank top showed off the little dip in his back and a little bit of his hips. Once Quinn was underneath the blanket Patrick took the remote and pressed play. The only light in the room coming from the tv, and it was just enough light to see Quinn's nervous face. It was then that Patrick wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled the young boy closer to him.

About half way through the second horror movie there was one strawberry treat and both males reached out to grab it when there hands touched each other's. Quinn thought it was cheesy and sat back letting Patrick take the sweet. Focusing back on the movie Quinn was a bit surprise when the tip of the strawberry brushed over his lips. His eyes fluttered over to Patrick to see something he hadn't seen in his eyes before. Slowly he took the treat in his mouth, savoring the sweet taste and closed his eyes and let his tongue trail over the tips of Patrick's fingers. Quinn heard a deep sigh come from Patrick and before he knew it their lips hugged each other softly.

The young boy pulled back at the sudden action and stared wild eyed up at the older male. "Sorry puppy," he said and reached out to softly stroke his hair, "didn't mean to scare you, it's just..." His voice trailed off and Quinn could see the sad look in his eyes. "N-No! It's okay I just wasn't ready!" Quinn told him, his green eyes staring up at Patrick. The last thing he wanted was to hurt him. "So if I prepared you, you'd be okay?" Patrick asked him, waiting for the boy to answer him. He got a small nod in response, and that was all he needed. "Follow me." He said and paused the movie and took Quinn's hand. Patrick then grabbed the bag he had brought with him and lead the teenager up the stairs and into his room.

Quinn walked into the room and turned around to Patrick shutting the door. To be honest with himself he was completely nervous and he was sure Patrick could tell from the way his body was shivering a bit. Placing the black bag on the night stand Patrick went over and gave Quinn a soft kiss, before walking behind him. "Just relax." He told him and went up to his radio and clicked play.


End file.
